


Lying to Yourself is Easy, Until it isn't

by Drittsekk



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Im an asshole, Slow recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, There will probably be a happy ending, definitely a vent fic, tord is not good at emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:47:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drittsekk/pseuds/Drittsekk
Summary: Honesty came naturally to some people. Tord was not one of them.





	1. He said he was fine

It wasn't the first time Tord had told this specific lie. Hell, it wasn't even the hundredth time. 

_'I'm fine. There is no need to worry about me. I'm simply going out for a walk.'_

His right hand men didn't believe him. They never did, they knew him too well. Enough to also know that there was no way to stop him.

_'Alright, just... Be careful. Someone could still recognize you.'_

The door had slammed shut before the soldier was finished speaking.

* * *

Garish red-and-blue clothing stood out against the soft green grass as Tord perched on the edge of an all-too familiar cliff. His legs dangled precariously off the edge as he tilted his head up to watch the stars. Nights like these were so rare- clear sky, warm breeze, calm atmosphere. The perfect night. He didn't deserve it. Or maybe he did. Maybe it was appropriate for him to cut such a beautiful night short, deprive himself of this last enjoyable experience.

Eventually giving in to the ache in his neck, the figure dropped his head, gaze automatically falling on one of the houses below. Newly rebuilt, the house stood as a reminder of his failures, of how badly he'd fucked up. He scowled, ignoring a twinge of pain as the action pulled at his still-healing scars. Some horrible, selfish part of him wished the inhabitants would come outside and see him, watch him fall one last time. As soon as the thought appeared it was gone, replaced with a gnawing guilt.

Taking a deep breath, Tord closed his single working eye, schooling his expression back into something more neutral. No more stalling. Keeping his eye closed, he pulled his legs up and stood, mere inches from where the cliff drops. No more stalling. Another deep breath. No more stalling. A small step, taking him to the very edge. No more stalling. No more stalling. _No more stalli-_

The sound of a car door opening broke him from his trance. He'd waited too long, hesitated too much- he hadn't heard the vehicle drive up, how long had he been standing there? The sudden, frantic yelling of his right hand men had him stepping back from the edge. He couldn't do it, not in front of them. He wasn't that fucked up. Sighing, he turned around, immediately feeling two pairs of hands grabbing him and guiding him back to a safer spot. Finally opening his eye confirmed his suspicion that they were both trying to talk to him, but all he could hear was a dull ringing in his ears. Seeming to realize he wouldn't be responding or even reacting to their words, the two men simply led their leader back to the car, worried chatter directed towards each other now.

As the car slowly pulled away, he risked a glance out the window, only able to see the trampled grass and a thin sliver of night sky. No houses, no stars, no clear sign of the precipice he had nearly thrown himself off of. Nearly. If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he never would have managed to jump, despite believing it was what he deserved. That for once he wanted to fix everything he'd ever broken instead of running away like he always did. That he was so very, very tired of the title 'Red Leader', and the thought of wearing it even in death made him sick to his stomach.

Unfortunately, Tord was never good at being honest. He always found lies easier to swallow.

He would not stall next time. 

He wanted it to end like this.

His hands weren't shaking.


	2. He said it was worth it

It's two weeks before Tord finds himself on that hill again, moon at his back. Two weeks of normalcy and paperwork and silent, worried stares shared behind his back. He was smarter, this time, sneaking out when his soldiers-turned-'caretakers' were asleep. Not that it was really necessary- he had no intention of jumping this time. The silence and fresh air were calling, and this was just where his legs took him.

The view probably had something to do with it.

Not the view of the house, of course not, no. The stars. He couldn't care less about that stupid, dark building with its stupid sleeping residents.

Tord wonders if they rebuilt it with only three bedrooms.

He scowls, forcing himself to look up into the sky, trying to drive away those thoughts. They never go anywhere good and he just wants to enjoy the night for once. It'd been nothing but stressful since he arrived in this country, most trusted soldiers in tow. The communist had big plans that (for once) required nuance and patience, which translates to paperwork and waiting and not taking any direct action himself. Part of him was thankful for that fact, the part of him that he shoves down and silences in all but the most vulnerable of moments. That part whispers that he doesn't want to take action, he doesn't even want to execute this plan. Or any plan, really. The rest of him was simply frustrated. He loathed those leaders who sat back and did nothing, letting their soldiers do all the work for them, and the idea of becoming one was horrible.

So he did what he could, working almost nonstop and barely sleeping. Sure, it led to a few 'issues', but it would all be worth it when his army succeeded. It had to be.

After a while, the stars in the sky started to blur together, his tired eye having difficulty staying open. It was a good time to get up and head back, not wanting to fall asleep in public where someone could find him. And if Patryck and Paul woke up to find him gone, they'd panic, and that was something Tord would like to avoid this time. So he stood, stretching out his sore muscles and letting out a sigh, gaze falling once more on that house. That house with its blinding lights and open front door.

His breath caught in his throat, blood running cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at a point in my emotional/mental state where writing this is helpful again, despite my grief.  
> no editing we post at 2am like men


	3. He said they wouldn't care

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Tord carefully rubbed his eye, hoping he was just hallucinating or something. With his level of exhaustion, it wouldn't be surprising. Another look confirmed that, yep, he had definitely been spotted. What else would have driven them from their house in such a rush that they didn't even close the door? They saw him and they were going to kill him and you know? Maybe he deserves it. Maybe he should sit here and let them have their revenge...

Nope nope nope, he couldn't do that. He ran a shaking hand- the organic one- through his hair, struggling to come up with a plan. He can't die yet, not tonight. If only they had seen him last time. Certainly Tom would have  _loved_ to give him that final push.

By the time Tord was able to calm those thoughts again, there were distant voices travelling up the hill. He had to strain his ears to hear them, but they were there, slowly growing louder and more discernible as the seconds passed. His old 'friends' were already too close for him to escape the way he arrived, so, as far as he could tell, there were only two options. Attempt to climb down the steep cliff, or face them. Although, they'd probably be able to drag him back up before he'd be able to get very far down. Only one option.

They were so much closer now, voices familiar but impossible to understand, panic making it all an inflected buzzing. He could hear anger in the wordless shouts, the loudest clearly recognizable as Tom's. The others were angry as well, but laced with a concern that only fed his guilt. Edd was too soft for his own good, sometimes, and he was certain that Matt was only feeding off his friend's worry.

He turned to face the approaching trio, swaying a little, just in time to see Tom's hair peeking up, the rest of him quickly following suit. Edd and Matt were side-by-side, running to try and keep up with their friend. Just seeing them hurt, and he was thankful his vision was too blurry to make out their expressions. Too blurry to make out much of anything.

The ground rushing up to meet him was clear, though.

* * *

 

_'I'm alive.'_

That single thought, and the accompanying surprise, was the first thing that came to Tord as he slowly returned to consciousness. He is alive. 

As soon as the rest of his thoughts were in order, he almost wished he wasn't.

He has to take stock of the situation, pretending to still be unconscious as he does so. It was clear he had either passed out, or been knocked out. Most likely the former, considering how much he'd been neglecting sleep. Judging by the lack of any noise besides his own, he was alone in the room. Normally that would be strange, no guard for the 'prisoner', but his former friends were never known to be that careful. One of them was probably playing guard for all of five minutes before getting bored.

Next up, physical condition. The scarred man was definitely in pain, but nothing worse than usual, and all his limbs were still attached. He opened his eye, nervously, before relaxing somewhat when he found he was right about the lack of a sentry. Concern tamped down somewhat, he tried to sit up, only to find himself being jerked back by his own momentum. Handcuffed. Annoying, but easily broken with his robotic arm.

Wasting no time, he stood up, checking his pockets to find his possessions missing. Predictable. He had nothing valuable on him, so he would have no issue leaving them behind. Moving quietly, he made his way to the door, pressing his good ear against the wood. There were muffled noises and voices, but nothing right outside the room he'd no doubt been locked in. Glancing down, he noticed a sheet of paper near his foot. It seemed as though he was just as predictable as they are. Carefully picking it up, he grimaced at the almost neon green ink it was written in.

_Hey Tord!_   
_We figured the handcuffs wouldn't stop you, but we didn't really have anything else._   
_Thought they might at least slow you down!_   
_Anyways, if you're not sitting on the bed with your hands where we can see them when we come into the room, Tom's going to shoot you._   
_-Edd_   
_p.s. Hope you're ready to answer some questions, asshole._

Despite the gravity of the situation, Tord couldn't help but crack a tiny smile. It was good to see that Edd was still himself. He didn't doubt the threat, though, shuffling back over to the bed and sitting down. Judging by the loud footsteps coming up the hall, he found that note just in time. There was barely enough time to steel himself before the door swung open.

"Tord."


End file.
